


Love Abides

by PheadreofWynter



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Getting Back Together, Make up sex, Making Up, NSFW, Shameless Smut, Smut, reconnecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 17:55:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10518873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PheadreofWynter/pseuds/PheadreofWynter
Summary: Hawke and Fenris after Alone and Questioning Beliefs in Act 3.  Make up sex ensues.  Kinda short and to the point this time :)Bioware owns everything, I'm just a guest in their house.





	

People say that ‘love waits’. I submit that this is untrue. Waiting is a passive action, and a love left passive will stagnate. Memories of those we love, often removed from the shelves of our mind, are turned, dusted, and fondled. Like stones in a tumbler the rough edges are worn away until all that’s left is smooth perfection. The reality of who we loved is lost beneath the glitter of the false idol and when the reality is returned to us it leaves a sour taste in the mouth. No relationship can be left untended and hope to survive, ask any old married couple you meet. Love is an active, dynamic thing that needs constant support. A lighthouse can only be a guide home if the Keeper is vigilant. So, again I say that love does not wait. Love, kept fresh in the breast of those missing their lovers, abides.

 

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Now that the moment was here, Fenris felt his courage trying to fail. It did not even slow him down. The time had long ago come and gone where terror, or anger, or even the pride that was the only armor he had against his own demons could stop him from saying what he should have all those years ago. He leaned down and stared into those beautiful gray eyes and spoke, “That nothing could be worse then the thought of living without you.”

“I understand Fenris, I always understood,” she breathed, as a tear spilled from one too bright eye. He took her hands and pulled her upwards, so they stood face to face. 

“If there is a future to be had, I would walk into it gladly at your side,” he vowed. Then he gathered her up in the circle of his strong swordsman’s arms and brought her mouth to his. The feel of her love for him was like rain on the parched, cracked ground of his soul. He was gentle, oh so careful, pressing his lips to hers with a reverence he could not contain. He had thought she was lost to him long ago and part of him would not be convinced this was really happening. Where the death of his former master had left him untouched, this chaste kiss left him sundered.

She had read a story once where the author had referred to a kiss as the one by which all others in the character’s life would be judged. That would have been this kiss for her. They had been through too much. Through fire and betrayal and the deaths of their families. They were all that was left for the other in the whole of the world. Fenris’s arms were the only home her soul would ever know, or need. 

The sweetness of the moment eventually gave way to the simmering hunger that still ached whenever she looked at him. She tilted her head further and teased his lips with hers, enticing them to open for her. He felt the tenor of the kiss change, and for a fleeting moment wanted to resist it. Then the sensation of the tip of her tongue across his bottom lip kicked his heart rate up an order of magnitude and he opened his lips. Their tongues met, stroked, withdrew. He felt more than heard Hawke’s moan and felt it burn all the way down like an arrow of fire to the groin. Their tongues danced, flicked, and then tangled as he gripped her harder. When she drew back they were both panting a little.

“I believe we are both wearing entirely too much clothing,” Hawke said with a trademark sardonic smile.

“I’m pretty sure Varric told me once that: ‘when you are in a relationship the lady is always right,’” he said with a foolish grin of his own. There was a beat of silence where they just looked at one another, and then they sprang apart to better remove these obstacles. It didn’t take long. As soon as he could Fenris lifted her freshly naked form up, and she fastened her legs around his waist as he kissed her with abandon. It was only a few short steps to the military precision of the bed he never actually slept in.

He laid her down on top of the coverlet and stretched out beside her. Every time they ceased kissing he felt he would expire before his lips found hers again, drinking in the softness and her sweet taste. One arm curled around under her head and buried itself in the bitter chocolate curls he had so longed to touch, while his other hand roamed, restless and possessive. Everything. He wanted everything and all of her all at once.

He stroked down the curve of her spine and spread his hand along the flare of her hip, drawing her closer against him. When she felt the length of his arousal against the front of her belly her hips involuntarily flexed, pressing her soft skin against his hardness. Because their eyes were closed she could not see how that caused his eyes to roll back in his head with sensation, but the way his hand slid around to cup her bottom and increase the pressure was most gratifying. Hawke pulled her shoulder back a little to make a space between their chests. She had been holding her arms still, but now she tentatively used her left hand to trace a path down his chest to his navel, and then lower. The fire left in the wake of her cool fingertips was both tender, and violently arousing. It seemed being unaccustomed to skin to skin contact made her butterfly touches that much more exquisite to his senses. She was drawing close to her object, the skin of his lower abdomen twitcing beneath her fingers, when his hand closed on hers.

“Not right now Hawke,” he panted in her ear, “Right now I have plans for you and my control is precarious enough as it is.” He released her hand and pushed her shoulder to turn her onto her back. In an instant his upper body loomed over her and he fastened his mouth on one pale pink nipple. Unprepared, Hawke cried out as pleasure exploded behind her eyes and a need as thick as honey began to pulse in her center. He drew on one nipple, then released it and moved to the other, using one hand spread out flat on her rib cage to hold her down as she tried to arch under him. Her response made him dizzy, and when she moaned it made the air lock up in his lungs. He wanted to be within her again, to experience the perfect abandon as they both gave in to pleasure, but it would wait. He had imagined this day for a long time, and he was not going to waste it.

He slid a knee between her legs, using it to apply gentle pressure against the core of her while he stroked and suckled her breasts. Her thighs were burning against his own heated skin as her hips flexed and relaxed, grinding against the resistance he provided. Hawke whimpered with the sheer overwhelming force of her feelings and her hands came up to stroke through the silky white down of his hair as he sucked. One hand closed delicately on his right ear and stroked upwards along its length, causing him to close his teeth on her flesh with a hissed breath. She tried it again and was rewarded. His nostrils flared and he pulled gently on the nipple between his teeth and growled at her.

“Festis bei umo canavarum, woman!” he murmured, and slipped farther downward, trailing kisses as he went. When his mouth made contact with her sex it felt a bit like being struck by lightning. Hot and melty lightning anyway. His tongue flicked against the satiny walls of her sex, stroking with patience until it quivered and jumped with sensation at each lick. He circled the little bud which was the primary seat of her pleasure, getting closer and closer until Hawke wanted to scream with the frustration of it. Then he closed his mouth around it entirely and laved it with his tongue as she ground her hips against him, and after a few moments, he abandoned the stroking and sucked. 

Hawke’s back arched so hard a she came up off the bed for a second. She would stop him, she had to stop him, it was too much, too much… and then the world behind her eyes exploded with prismatic light, and she thought no more.

When she came back to her senses he was beside her again, and was stroking her shaking limbs and murmuring to her. She turned and pressed against his chest, full of a joyous peace she had given up on ever experiencing again. Fenris watched her come all the way back to herself, unable or unwilling to push for his own release. He still felt like he didn’t deserve what was happening. She might have been content to fall asleep, if she had not seen the way he was looking at her. His eyes, those startling gorgeous eyes, were locked on her full of a hunger that was just a step away from frightening. His need made the bones in his face stand out more, like he was actually physically starving for her. It was impossible. It was also true. 

She reached up and put her hand on his cheek, “Please, be with me,” she murmured, and kissed him. She could taste an echo of herself on his lips and tongue.

It was all he needed. In moments he was between her thighs again, and the head of his cock against her opening. Their eyes met, and held as he slid the whole length of himself into the swollen wetness of her recently-pleasured sex. It was heaven. It was beyond description, and when he moved he thought that perhaps the pleasure would kill him but he would take it all anyway. He would take everything, would have all of her, every last inch. Her flesh was still heated from his attentions and now the bruising pace of his need quickly roused her back to her own. It wasn’t long at all before Hawke found the rhythm and began to raise her hips and meet him thrust for thrust as he drove headlong into pursuit of his release.

“I can’t… “ he panted, increasing speed, “I won’t be able to…”

“I want it Fenris,” she told him, panting herself, “There’s time for care later, please, oh Maker please, give it to me now!”

And he snarled his response, ramming his cock into her over and over, blind with the lust that gripped him and drove him on. “Hawke,” gasped, like a talisman, like a chant, “Hawke, HAWKE!” and his voice rose in a tortured strangle as his orgasm caught him up and flung him to break into pieces upon the rocks of completion. Hawke, who had been close herself was thrown over the edge as he pumped his seed into her and his public bone smashed against the swollen nub of her clit.

It was a time before they lay, still and entangled in upon the scratchy white sheets. They just kept staring at each other, petting and stroking and enjoying the soft glow their love making had created. He didn’t say he loved her, though he might have wished to. It was still too new and raw for him to contemplate that. Hawke, who understood him as no one else ever had or would, did not say it either. Instead she lay still in the circle of his arms and experienced a peace of spirit that was beyond all telling. Eventually they feel asleep. This time there were no dreams to trouble either of them.


End file.
